


The Devil's Workshop

by sciencemyfiction



Series: Vanilla Kotetsu and Kinky Barnaby: the series! [2]
Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Bondage, Humiliation kink, M/M, another old fill on the anonmeme but this one was not finished, anyway, consensual and safe kink are here, finish it??? now???, so I might, wall fuckin', we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencemyfiction/pseuds/sciencemyfiction
Summary: Kotetsu's been thinking since they started this business of playing around with kink in the bedroom that it's just not for him, until he finds himself responding subconsciously to Barnaby's moods and wanting more. To navigate a role reversal, though, he'll need to actually ask, and that's harder to do than it looks when he's this embarrassed.
Relationships: Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr./Kaburagi T. Kotetsu
Series: Vanilla Kotetsu and Kinky Barnaby: the series! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186817





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the anonmemt: 
> 
> h-humiliation kink?:  
> Barnaby's eloquent needling and criticisms are really turning Kotetsu on.
> 
> However, since his bitchiness is infrequent and mostly warm and playful, Kotetsu's experiencing a serious case of blue balls regarding his fetish. He's embarrassed (and/or they're not even in a relationship) so he can't bring himself to ask Barnaby to talk down to him just like that, but finds himself behaving in ways he hopes will get a sharper reaction out of Barnaby.

Sunlight streaked over the park in buttery yellow, thick and honeyed in the late afternoon. Across the street, the farmer's market- a relatively new tradition in town, but one Kotetsu deeply enjoyed- was beginning to wrap up for the evening. The few bundles of wares that hadn't been sold were packed up neatly and hauled into the trucks of the waiting farmers, most of whom looked rather pleased with their earnings for the day. Kotetsu was tasked with helping out his own family business, and hefted the last crate of unsold spirits back up into Muramasa's van, setting it down with a sigh and stupid grin.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," Muramasa remarked, scratching his cheek and then folding his arms across his chest as he frowned at his inventory sheet. "Where'd the bourbon Miss Takamoto sent get to?"

"We sold it!" Kotetsu protested with a laugh. "First thing in the morning, to that grouchy guy with the really long beard. Miski or something."

Closing up the back of his van, Muramasa gave Kotetsu a long, searching look and then leaned back against it, one eyebrow raised. "Missuk, I remember now. There's something different about you, though. What's up? You were constantly moping back at home. Now you're acting like you just got married again."

As business went, sharing his personal life with his brother had never been one of Kotetsu's prerogatives. He couldn't help doing it anyway, usually, but in this case he was determined to hold his ground. The relationship was new and shaky enough without his brother meddling, anyway. "It's nothing like that," he demurred easily, laughing a little. Palming an abandoned apple from a table still in need of dismantling, he tossed it high and began playing catch with himself. "Just happy with things as they are. Kaede's doing well; I'm doing okay, you and ma are fine. What, I can't smile once in a while?"

"You know, that blond guy, the one you work with," Muramasa began, snapping his fingers as if he couldn't remember the name. "He was the King of Heroes, ah, what was it again..."

"Bunny?" Kotetsu ventured guardedly, not trusting that this wasn't some trick to feel him out.

"Who? I meant Sky High." The deadpan expression on Muramas's face twitched into something that very nearly almost was a smirk, and Kotetsu threw the apple at him with a snicker. "Yeah, your partner, Barnaby. How's he doing?"

To Kotetsu's surprise, he felt a little cheerier talking about Barnaby than he would have been discussing his latest conversation with Kaede about the Hero Academy. It wasn't as though he and Kaede weren't both excited for her to go, but the problem of money was looming overhead and had taken all the fun out of seeing her latest costume ideas; but Barnaby was a subject about which Kotetsu didn't get to talk very often. "He's good! He's been a lot better since he took his break, or whatever. You'd never have known it before but he's a really thoughtful guy, he remembers all the other Heroes's birthdays and everything."

"Something I imagine is beyond you," Muramasa interjected, his smirk becoming more evident when Kotetsu picked up another apple to throw at him. "These belong to somebody, you know."

Pouting, Kotetsu put the apple down and caught the other when it was tossed his way, setting it back on the table. The little old lady cleaning up all the tables noticed how close they were and shooed them off, leaving Kotetsu with an awkward desire to tell Muramasa more and a weird, niggling fear that the bizarre nature of his relationship with Barnaby would be immediately apparent to his brother, who was too good at reading him and might not approve of the, uh, less savory aspects of their nightlife.

Instead of discussing any of that, even the seed of it all, Kotetsu clapped a hand to his brother's shoulder and nodded. "We'll have to catch up next time. I know you have a long drive ahead."

Returning the nod and actually bothering to smile a bit, Muramasa pulled open the driver's side door and crawled in. "See you next month. Kaede's coming, so don't do anything embarrassing, all right? Bad enough you're her dad and all."

"Hey! You're not much of an uncle, you know!"

Muramasa started the engine, and pretended not to be grinning widely as he ignored Kotetsu entirely. They waved to each other as the van began to mutter and clank, and just like that, with the last rays of the sunlight, Muramasa was out of sight.   
  
It was still a little warm, though Stern Bild's harsh pavement and steel didn't hold as much of the day's heat in here on the Silver Stage as they did down on the Bronze, closer to sea level. A breeze that smelled like rain kicked up, and Kotetsu glanced out to the sea, wondering if a storm would come in soon.   
  
He began walking home, oblivious to the gathering dusk, and nearly collided with a homeless woman wheeling a shopping cart filled with non-perishable foods when his phone jumped in his jacket pocket, buzzing. "Hey, miss," he said quickly, shoving one hand into his pocket in search of his phone, procuring his wallet with the other. "Hang on, take this."   
  
Therefore, as he answered the phone, he was handing the old woman a twenty dollar bill and asking her,  
  
"Hey, do you need help getting that somewhere? The shelter up on twelfth street, right?" She nodded, and he turned his attention to the phone he had crammed to his ear. "Yeah, hello?"  
  
"Kotetsu?" On very rare occasions, Barnaby could make Kotetsu's name sound like it was an expletive. This just so happened to be one of those occasions, as irritation practically dripped out of the phone. "I suppose you have a legitimate reason for reneging on your promise to help me earlier, and you're simply anticipating a better opportunity to make your excuse and apologize?"  
  
Shoulders hunching a bit in unconscious response, Kotetsu chewed the inside of his lip, ducking his head. The old woman, seeing he was distracted, patted his arm and said, 'thank you, dear, but I can manage' and continued up the street without him, leaving him in the ebb and flow of foot traffic, thunderstruck. "I-I-I- what? I didn't-- _oh_ shit the _opera!_ "  
  
"How colorful," Barnaby muttered disgustedly, and Kotetsu began to wish he could crawl into a hole and die somewhere, anything to end Barnaby's tirade before it began. He settled for hiding in a shady alcove near a building where he was out of the way of foot traffic but could take his verbal beating in relative peace. "You know, it might be an esoteric hobby but at least I was making an effort to share it with you. I'm disappointed, Kotetsu, I thought you wanted to spend more time together. Evidently," and Kotetsu wanted to say 'no, no, no you've got it all wrong but his throat went dry with regret. _Shit._ How could he have forgotten something like this? "that is not the case."  
  
"No, wait, Bunny--"  
  
"No?" There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line, and Kotetsu held his breath, hoping desperately that Barnaby would at least give him a chance to explain himself. "...you weren't in a car accident or something, were you?" Just like that, Barnaby was all concern, his voice low and hushed with compassion. Kotetsu's stomach did a weird little flip and he felt curiously weak-kneed, but leaning his shoulder into the grimy brick of the storefront he'd stopped by gave him a little of his balance back.   
  
"No, that's not it, but I didn't mean to miss out I just totally forgot! It's Farmer's Market today and Muramasa asked me to help him sell his stuff last minute. I'm so, so sorry, I want to go to the opera I just was an idiot."   
  
"Farmer's Market?" The incredulous tone suggested that Kotetsu had somehow hit on the one thing that seemed too ridiculous to Barnaby to be a lie. Well, whatever it took; at least it was the truth. "Where are you now?"

"I- I'm on my way!" Looking down at his watch, Kotetsu chewed on his lip and tried to mark his location. If he ran as hard as he could, he might make it to the theater in time to sneak in after the first hold. Barnaby had warned him about that, and of course, the show would be starting in ten minutes, which explained the background clamor on Barnaby's end of the line. "I probably won't make it before the curtain goes up, and I'm not dressed for it, but I'll be there, honest."  
  
A sigh interrupted him, and he could almost picture Barnaby rubbing at the bridge of his nose and frowning just so. "Don't bother." Stumbling mid-step, Kotetsu slowed to a stop again at the corner of the street, heart sinking. "I'll see you later tonight. Meet me at my place."  
  
"But- Bunny?"  
  
"Do it," Barnaby growled quietly, and Kotetsu shivered. "Use the time to clean up, first. I'll show you a recording if your desire to see it is sincere."  
  
Without waiting for Kotetsu to answer, Barnaby hung up. Dejectedly, Kotetsu turned back in the direction of his own home and returned to it, dwelling on the conversation and wallowing in self-pity. Bad enough that he was never really sure if he was satisfying Barnaby's needs in the more physical department of their relationship; to then fail to even show up for things a friend would have made time for felt like he simply wasn't cut out for relationships anymore.   
  
Tomoe hadn't been easy to live with or learn, but Barnaby was much, much harder. Trudging into his apartment, Kotetsu kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned the denim shirt he'd been wearing, climbing the stairs to go straight to the shower. By the time he was naked, the water was running hot and he stepped under it with a hiss for the initial heat, relaxing as it sank into his shoulders and eased the strain of the day away.   
  
Not, he reflected, that he deserved it; his shoulders grew tighter again, and he hung his head, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Barnaby was right to be angry with him; and besides, Kotetsu was a little angry with himself. He'd somehow let the opera and his plans for the evening completely slip his mind while he was enjoying himself at the open-air market, playing with kids and helping out those who couldn't lift their purchases into their cars and carts. They'd been at it since early morning, when he'd planned to be home well in time for the performance. But in typical fashion he'd never mentioned that he had plans to his brother, and so Muramasa hadn't known Kotetsu was planning to leave at five in the afternoon. Without Muramasa to remind him or himself remembering, Kotetsu had been free to forget all about his plans until things were closing down at sunset- six forty was by no means enough time to go home, shower, get dressed and make it to the theater before seven. Maybe if he'd still had his full five minutes of Hundred Power he could have pulled it off. Maybe.   
  
Rinsing the lather and soap from his body, he began to shampoo his hair, scrubbing it a little more roughly than he might've done otherwise and growling to himself in frustration. No matter how he wondered, he couldn't figure why he'd screwed something so simple up in such an idiotic way. It felt like he'd been trying to get into trouble.   
  
His stomach twisted a little again, and he leaned back against the slick tile of the shower, wondering what it would be like when he got to Barnaby's apartment. Maybe they really would just watch Barnaby's recording of the show (or some other performance of _Tristan und Isolde_ , whatever), which would be great since then Kotetsu would get to see and hear it and know what it was all about. Some small part of him, though, kept worrying or wondering if maybe, instead, he wasn't going to get punished for what he'd done.   
  
This time, when his stomach twisted, he recognized the sensation, and stopped dead where he was, hands still buried in their furious ministrations to his hair, staring first at the shower wall, then down at himself.

That was the same sensation, he thought shakily, that came of Barnaby telling Kotetsu all about his secret, dark fantasies of being captured and trained to become someone's sex slave. It was the very same feeling as Kotetsu'd had when he'd been tasked, on some nights since that first, weird, wonderful night, to tie up (or usually chain) his partner as part of their bedroom play.   
  
More expressly, it was the feeling he got when sometimes his mind ventured treacherously far down the path of 'well, we're doing this anyway so it must not be all bad' to 'what if I could get Barnaby to do that to _me_?'  
  
"Oh, shit," he whispered to himself, and stood under the spray, trying to think as the shampoo drizzled out of his hair, hands braced on the wall to keep himself from falling.


	2. Chapter 2

He had waited for nearly an hour outside of Barnaby's apartment before he realized that his stomach was hurting. Further, that this had absolutely nothing to do with his uncomfortable feelings of partial arousal at the thought of Barnaby taking the lead in the bedroom, and everything to do with the fact that he'd forgotten to make time for dinner. Kotetsu worried it over, shifting from foot to foot before Barnaby's door.  
  
There was the possibility that he could go get food for himself, eat in a hurry, and hurry back to still make it in time to be waiting when Barnaby came home. But given that it'd taken him a solid forty five minutes to think out his apology in the shower, between disliking his own choice of words and worrying over the weird desire he had just discovered, Kotetsu'd only arrived at Barnaby's apartment a little after eight, which meant to leave now would be to court danger. The show was purportedly two and a half hours long, it was past nine, and Barnaby might be very angry if he arrived to find Kotetsu had ducked out on him _again._  
  
Before he knew what he was doing, Kotetsu was up the hall and waiting by the elevator, casting guilty glances back over his shoulder at Barnaby's door every now and then, as if it were all a test and now that he'd made the conscious decision to be delinquent he was in trouble. Part of him actually hoped Barnaby would be standing there in the elevator when the doors opened, to catch him in the act. He imagined with some embarrassment that Barnaby's expression would pull into that cool, disgusted scowl so common in the first days of their partnership, and tried to stifle the embarrassed desire that the image kindled in him. Barnaby would be right to chew him out for trying to run off, though he'd probably go out of his way to word drop, talking about things like cowardice and disloyalty.  
  
He told himself reasonably that there was no need to worry, and Barnaby would understand and besides what kind of crazy person _wanted_ to get in trouble with someone so important to him? Maybe Barnaby would even be pleased if Kotetsu returned with dinner for both of them. In fact, that seemed like a much better scenario, and he relaxed a little, distracted with the task of trying to pick a suitable restaurant from which to pick up food for the pair of them. He spent the elevator ride debating which restaurants nearby would be open this late on a Wednesday night. It'd have to be someplace Barnaby liked, so something with nice, interesting salads. Not that such locations were lacking on this side of town, the real challenge had always been finding something cheap but still tasty by Kotetsu's standards.  
  
By the time he'd reached his little green van, Kotetsu felt a little better, and his growling stomach was much easier to ignore as he drove up the street with food as his end goal. He picked Mera's Garden, a restaurant usually a trifle beyond his tastes, and when he arrived decided to order a salad with berries, nuts, and feta cheese for Barnaby and a simple sandwich for himself. All in all, he returned in just under twenty five minutes to find that, yes, Barnaby's showy red sports car was now in the parking lot.  
  
All the work he'd done trying to assure himself that things would work out fled in a hurry as he felt a weird spike of heady panic. Try as he might, he couldn't chase off the thought that Barnaby would be furious when Kotetsu finally got back up there. Maybe it hadn't been such a brilliant idea to leave. For a few moments, he considered just heading home himself, rather than deal with the confrontation waiting for him. Of course, that would only make things worse in the long run, and besides, Kotetsu had no use for the full salad, even as leftovers.  
  
Wrestling with his flagging self-confidence, Kotetsu stepped out of the van, snatched up the to-go bags, and locked it, heading to the elevator in trepidation. Nobody else seemed to be around as he waited for one of the elevator cars to come back down. No one stepped out when the doors slid back and open, nor in before they closed again. For a building so large, he'd almost never spent the elevator ride up to Barnaby's apartment alone-- not entirely, anyway.

Even if he was not accompanied by Barnaby himself, usually there were other people heading to their own apartments. After all, the building boasted a cool thousand units, each more pricey and fancy-looking than the last. It made him self-conscious to be around the people who lived here, though, since with the exception of Barnaby, Kotetsu didn't really know or fit in with any of them. Someone like Kotetsu, who smelled a little like the corn he'd helped some of the old ladies shuck despite his shower and was a little sunburned from spending the last few weeks mostly outside, did not belong here. No wonder Barnaby was annoyed with his pedestrian partner.  
  
Being alone in the elevator had its own unique brand of eeriness. He stared at the number display, willing it to go just a little faster, anxious to return to the sixtieth floor, and felt jumpy at every soft 'ding' as the car passed each floor. Really, it would have been nice to have someone to talk to, or at least smile at nervously. Even if they'd pointed out how he really didn't fit with everything else, or disparaged his food choices, it would have been something. He just wished he had something, anything, to distract him from the argument he was anticipating.  
  
Barnaby was not waiting for Kotetsu outside the door to his own apartment, which made perfect sense and still felt a little odd to Kotetsu after how much he'd gotten worked up over it. He wondered if Barnaby would refuse to let him in, or still be angry, or hit him back for that one time at the ice-skating rink, which technically he'd never done.   
  
Clearing his throat, Kotetsu told himself to quite being ridiculous and pressed the doorbell. He stepped back, standing straight and tall and doing his best to look absolutely apologetic while still being hopeful that they might be able to spend part of the evening together. After all, if he didn't, he might have a long wait.  
  
The door opened after little delay, and Barnaby answered still dressed in a dark suit for the performance Kotetsu had missed, with white gloves and matching cravat. Given his unusually old-fashioned appearance, seeing Barnaby smile so genuinely was a little bit disarming. Kotetsu gaped, a little. "There you are!" That- that didn't sound like Barnaby was angry. "Come on in."  
  
  
"Uh-" Feeling strangely underdressed, even in his usual, Kotetsu shrugged and offered the bag in his hand awkwardly. "Hey. So- I brought- I dunno if you ate, but I got you a salad at that Mera's Garden place."  
"I haven't!" Barnaby waved him in, and put one of those gloved hands to Kotetsu's shoulder, steering him through into the apartment. "That's great, thanks, Kotetsu. Oh, your hair's still wet."   
  
The little frown that wrinkled Barnaby's nose was both cute, and gave Kotetsu a breath of bizarre excitement. Surely the thought of Kotetsu showering would remind Barnaby to be angry with him.   
  
Which he didn't want, so what was the _deal,_ why would he be excited? Barnaby, oblivious to Kotetsu's thoughts, said charitably, "I hope it's not too cold in here?"  
  
Befuddled, Kotetsu stepped deeper into the apartment, allowing himself to be guided to the kitchen. There, he secured plates and drinks for them both and halved his sandwich, taking a quarter of Barnaby's salad for himself dry before putting on the dressing Barnaby liked so much. As for himself, Kotetsu just stuffed the leaves and berries into his sandwich and called it good. It was sort of like chicken salad that way, he figured. "Uh, it's not cold," he answered as he went, fumbling with silverware and then offering Barnaby his plate. "It's no big deal, anyway. Uh- so how was the performance? Was it good? Sorry about, you know."  
  
They both went to sit on the small couch Barnaby had conceded to buy when they'd started spending more time together, carrying a plate of food and glass of wine each. Kotetsu felt curiously warm, and tried not to let it show too much, confused about his own feelings, while Barnaby settled in with a laugh. "Well, it's not exactly the most uplifting story, but the performance was good. A little less imaginative than I was expecting, and they had an embarrassing moment where the lights didn't come up on time for one of Tristan's songs."

"That seems like it'd be pretty bad," Kotetsu agreed, and he managed to calm down quite a bit when Barnaby laughed, trying not to think too much on why Barnaby's easy laughter and tacit approval seemed to make him feel so comfortable. That was normal, wasn't it? Not like the other stuff.  
  
  
"What about you?" Barnaby asked, and took a bite of his salad, politely finishing the whole thing before he followed the query up. "What's this farmer's market? I've never heard of that."  
"They just started doing it again this year! They used to do it when I was a kid but stopped like, ten years ago for some reason. Farmers from the countryside beyond the city come in once a month on a Wednesday and all get together in the middle of Stern Bild on that big open square by the railway park, right? They set up, like, a bazaar for the day and sell their stuff. Kids in the city get to see what sort of things they're missing out on, and kids in the country can come along with their folks and check out the city. It's pretty cool!" Kotetsu realized belatedly that he was gushing and took a bite of his sandwich-salad monstrosity to pace himself a bit, though he couldn't help adding around the bite, "Muramasa brings liquor down as an excuse to see me since I came back."  
  
"Don't speak with food in your mouth," Barnaby murmured immediately in a firm, not quite irritated tone, and sipped his wine. "So you were helping out your brother. That sounds like fun."  
  
Stuck on being chided for his manners, Kotetsu meekly ate in silence for a bit, only nodding to answer. The awkward duality of being annoyed at being scolded and being uncomfortably turned on by it only grew more awkward as neither continued to say anything. Kotetsu had finished his half of the sandwich and was toying with his mostly-empty wineglass by the time Barnaby finally grew annoyed, setting his fork down on his plate on his lap and eyeing Kotetsu speculatively.  
  
"What's wrong with you today? I'm sorry about snapping at you earlier, if that's what's bothering you. I should know that it's really not a big deal; if I'm going to show you an opera, something flashier would be more appropriate anyway. _The Barber of Seville_ , maybe."  
  
Unable to pretend he wasn't relieved to hear that Barnaby wasn't angry, Kotetsu brightened a little, and very nearly left it at that. Catching himself, he laughed weakly, shaking his head. "Uh, just- I've been thinking about something, and I guess I'm kind of weirded out."  
  
  
"Something about me?" Barnaby asked shrewdly, his expression getting a little flatter, harder to read. Hastily, Kotetsu threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to get Barnaby back to that smiling, debonair calm he'd been in earlier.  
"No! Well, related. But it's me? Or, well, I guess it's- about- about _us_ , more like something about me that I didn't really, um, think about before but now I am and it's just kind of- different."  
  
  
Barnaby raised one eyebrow, sat back against the couch, and sipped his wine in a perfect posture of dismissive deprecation. Feeling the color rising in his cheeks and the heat that started to tingle in his gut, Kotetsu looked away quickly, trying to laugh.  
"This is just hard to talk about, you know?"  
  
"I don't, actually, since you haven't explained what it is you're trying to say yet." The picture of patience and good humor, Barnaby quietly finished his salad while Kotetsu twiddled his thumbs, waiting for Kotetsu to get his bearings. When even the time it took for that was not enough for Kotetsu to figure himself out, Barnaby sighed and rose from the couch, collecting their plates and returning to the kitchen to rinse them both off.  
  
While he was alone on the couch, Kotetsu tried to figure out a good way to say what he was thinking about. He was grateful for the respite, but everything tended to fall apart in his imaginary scenarios when he got to the point where he actually put word to his weird feeling. As far as Kotetsu knew, there weren't really words for what it was.

By the time Barnaby had returned, Kotetsu was making himself into a nervous wreck. Seeming to pick up on that, he put one gloved hand to Kotetsu's shoulder, and squeezed gently. Most likely the gesture was meant to comfort, but all it did was remind Kotetsu of how unsure he was about his apparent whatever it was. Kink, he supposed. "If it's something you're having so much trouble talking about, maybe we should wait for now?"  
  
"I just-- I don't even know what to call it," he blurted out, wincing at the way his voice cracked. This was not meant to be a night of serious talk and whatever the hell was going on with Kotetsu. Originally they'd planned to do the opera, dinner, and maybe fool around, which was probably why Barnaby looked a little distracted, too. Barnaby crouched down in front of him, and Kotetsu stared resolutely at his knees. This was plenty hard enough without trying to meet Barnaby's eyes.   
  
"What is it?" Barnaby asked, very gently, kind enough not to force Kotetsu to look up at him until things were a bit more under control. "Just start at the beginning. It's something to do with you, and it affects us. Is something wrong?"  
  
Kotetsu shook his head.  
  
"So you're not thinking about stopping our relationship, or anything like that?"  
"What? No! Not like that." Looking up for a moment, he grimaced, licking his lips and searching for words. "It's just, earlier, when you were mad at me, right?"  
  
  
"I'm sorry about that. I hurt your feelings, didn't I?"  
  
Surprised-- maybe by the immediate sincerity of the apology or the fact that Barnaby was apologizing at all-- Kotetsu shrugged it off, and shook his head again. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the apology, but that somehow didn't matter to him too much in the grand scheme of things. "It's not- I just mean, you were mad, and you said some nasty stuff, right, and when you did I felt kinda, I don't know."  
He wavered, feeling the heat spread in his face and his stomach, which felt positively full of butterflies, he was so nervous. Now if only he could figure out why _that_ was turning him on. Part of him hoped Barnaby would notice and figure it out, saving Kotetsu from having to explain. The rest of him was relieved he had yet to catch on. He wasn't sure which part was more in favor of discussing this apparent problem he had, since either way he was facing humiliation.  
  
"When you were putting me down, and stuff. I don't know, I felt really turned on after that." He let out a shaky breath, and took another, holding it a second before adding, in a quieter tone, "It scares me, so I keep trying not to think about it. Wanting something like that."  
  
  
"Kotetsu," Barnaby sounded a little alarmed, "You don't honestly think I would want to hurt you, verbally or otherwise, do you?"  
  
"Of course not." He mustered a weak smile.  
Clearly unconvinced, Barnaby caught his chin and leaned in to kiss away the tears that Kotetsu had been pretending weren't gathering in his eyes. It felt weird and he made a soft sound of half-hearted protest as he closed his eyes but didn't fight otherwise. Barnaby pressed more kisses to his cheeks, to his jaw and chin and finally to his lips, and Kotetsu let them part, grateful that, even though he seemed to prefer the alternative, Barnaby didn't mind taking charge once in a while. They'd had a month or two to think about it, and Kotetsu had done plenty of thinking.

Mostly, he'd thought it really would be nice, as Barnaby had suggested once, to have someone to whom control was automatically deferred; around whom he could just _be_ , and allow himself to be guided and moved to that person's liking. Maybe it was unhealthy, as he'd first thought. Wanting someone to take charge didn't really strike Kotetsu as a prime Hero quality, either, since Heroes needed to be leaders, at least a little, in case they had duties to evacuate a building or something like that where people needed to listen. Still, he'd figured after a while that maybe that was the point, that sometimes when you knew it was safe, you could go be with the person who took charge for you, and just relax. If Kotetsu could be that person for Barnaby, he reasoned that that meant Barnaby was already trustworthy enough, safe enough, to also be that person for Kotetsu. The only concern he had was desire. If Barnaby didn't much like the idea of switching off, that'd have to be the end of these weird thoughts. That made asking just that much harder.  
  
The kiss was unusually deep. Kotetsu felt a moment of panic as Barnaby shifted their position slightly, tilting Kotetsu's body back and away from the support of the couch so that his head could fall back and give Barnaby total access. Clutching Barnaby's arms for purchase, even with the hand at his back, Kotetsu did his best to trust that he was safe in Barnaby's hands, focusing on the tongue searching his mouth. He ended up trying to suck on it to show his own interest, instead of crashing against it in battle with his own tongue, as he would've done normally. Maybe that could convey what words couldn't.  
  
Barnaby noticed and sat back, breaking the kiss but keeping Kotetsu balanced in his arms as he looked searchingly into Kotetsu's face. Breathless, Kotetsu asked, "What?"  
  
"I really wouldn't hurt you," Barnaby said again, urgently, earnestly, and that had the same warm effect as everything else, which was making Kotetsu begin to wonder if maybe it was just the sound of Barnaby's voice that did it for him so much. "I just want to be sure you know that. You're safe with me."  
  
"I believe you," Kotetsu answered, and then laughed as Barnaby scowled in evident doubt. "No, really, I do. It's just-- it's really weird, 'cause I'm not into the tying up stuff like you are but I keep _thinking_ about it, you know?"  
  
Silence, silence and something flickering in Barnaby's eyes, and Kotetsu couldn't believe he was saying this out loud, but he went on anyway, hoping that the understanding would crystallize and Barnaby would just get it, and the hard part would be over. He didn't dare let himself stop to worry about how hard it might be to actually let himself be in such a vulnerable position.   
  
"I keep thinking about that first time and wondering what it'd be like to be a slave, like you said."  
  
It was quite an experience, to feel Barnaby's hips grinding into his knee out of nowhere, his erection an unmistakable sensation through the thin fabric of his suit pants. They both groaned, Kotetsu in surprise and Barnaby with a hiss of desire. When Barnaby spoke again, he spoke slowly, each syllable carefully picked to be sure their communication was entirely, mutually understood. "Are you completely serious?"  
  
"A-about what?"  
  
"You want to try being my slave?" Kotetsu nodded, and Barnaby's hips pressed into Kotetsu's knee again, while Barnaby's free hand ghosted over the answering bulge in Kotetsu's pants. A ticklish shiver shot through him and he wriggled right out of Barnaby's grip in answer, falling into the couch with a soft yelp. Kotetsu fell still, pinned by Barnaby's intense gaze. "Is that really what you want, Kotetsu? I won't pursue this unless you're sure."  
  
He gulped. "I- I don't really know what I'm asking for, I guess. Y-you're probably right, it's silly, I should really--"

Barnaby's hand in the center of his chest pressed lightly, and Kotetsu lay back from where he'd been trying to sit up. When that hand slid to the side, cupping his chest, thumb over the general area of his nipple, Kotetsu caught his breath in a gasp. "If that's the case, then I can explain what it would mean. But I'll need to ask what you'd be comfortable with, and I need you to be completely honest. And I wouldn't be able to start tonight."  
  
A little disappointed, Kotetsu deflated, trying to muster up the courage to accept a lost night spent holding each other close but never really getting the kind of contact he currently wanted. "Why not? We're both already--"  
  
"We can still have sex, but I'm not going to be ready to do something that complicated on the same day you tell me about it," Barnaby said, with such confidence and finality that Kotetsu began to wonder if Barnaby had tried something like this before. Maybe not on other people, obviously, but he'd showed Kotetsu the pieces of a disassembled prison cell thing that evidently he'd once constructed _just_ to spend time in it pretending to be captured. If anybody was prepared for something like this, or knew what he was doing, it was probably Barnaby.   
  
So, he decided to accept that stipulation, since it made sense and didn't deny his libido the attention it was apparently craving at the moment. "All right, I understand about that, at least." At Barnaby's stern look, he added wryly, "And I'll be honest, I promise. But you know that's hard."  
  
"That," the hand on Kotetsu's chest pressed down lightly, thumb swiping over his nipple, "is the point. I need to know what's safe to do so I don't hurt you. I mean it when I say I don't want to; so, do you want to be tied up?"  
  
Kotetsu considered it, but shook his head a little.   
  
"Publicly humiliated?"  
  
"No! No way," he answered glumly, thinking back over a year and wincing at old aches, old memories. Barnaby noticed, and waited for an explanation, but nothing came. There were some stories Kotetsu still didn't know how to tell. He made no effort to share this one, and after a moment or two of patient silence, Barnaby let it drop and continued.   
  
"Do you want to be forced to do sexual acts for me? Without promise of getting anything in return, just servicing me sexually as part of your slavery."  
  
Considering it, Kotetsu felt an instant pang of embarrassment at his body's immediate, positive response to the idea. Whatever Barnaby meant, Kotetsu wasn't sure. His mind supplied plenty of scenarios, though, from sucking Barnaby off to being used and then kept by Barnaby's desk while Barnaby finished his paperwork for the day. Where all these ideas were coming from, Kotetsu wasn't sure, but the fact that he had them was distressingly inspirational and made him feel a little claustrophobic in his unrelenting clothes. "Um. Maybe?"  
  
"When you think about it," Barnaby coaxed, and Kotetsu couldn't help wondering if he'd done surveys or something in the past. It sure seemed like he was totally comfortable talking about this sort of thing. "What do you imagine? And how do you feel?"  
  
"Y- um. I'm imagining you, watchin' TV or doing paperwork or something while I'm trying to get you off." Saying it out loud and thinking about it were two totally different beasts, however, and he could feel his cock twitching hungrily in answer to the utter embarrassment that came of admitting something so deeply personal aloud. Kotetsu covered his face with his hands, sure he was red all the way to his shoulders and trembling, just a bit, not sure how to deal with this bizarre dichotomy of sensations. He doubted he'd ever been this embarrassed in his life. Or aroused. Talking about what he was imagining when he was still trying to set to rights the fact that he was even imagining it felt so, so strange. "R-right now I'm imagining you in those clothes, and me naked."  
  
In a soft, sweet voice that made the hairs on Kotetsu's neck stand on end, Barnaby whispered into his ear, "These clothes in particular?" He nodded meekly. "Why these?"  
  
"Just-- it looks really good on you, and classy."

A wry chuckle into his ear followed, and then Barnaby kissed his hands where they were covering his face. It made him feel a little safer, even if it did nothing to soothe his embarrassment at needing to be comforted like some kind of child. "Okay. I'm wearing these clothes, and you're naked. Why?"  
  
"Because I'm not like you."  
  
"You dress just fine," Barnaby countered , tugging at Kotetsu's tie illustratively and then proceeding to untie it. Neither resisting, nor moving his hands to make that gesture easier, Kotetsu held his breath and tried to rationalize why 'dressing just fine' didn't feel the same to him as being classy, like Barnaby. "Do you not think of yourself as looking good?"   
  
Kotetsu batted Barnaby's hands away. "Shut up," he muttered.   
  
" _I_ think you're very attractive. I can't imagine how you stayed single so long." Smirking a bit at Kotetsu's surprise when he pulled his hands a bit away from his face to stare, Barnaby didn't stop him from covering his face again, though he did laugh. "You do seem better suited to being pushed around than I do."  
  
"S-shut up!"  
  
"Back to the questions," Barnaby agreed. "So you imagine yourself, naked, being forced to service me, clothed. And you feel?"  
  
Shivering as Barnaby's hand trailed over his cock again, Kotetsu whimpered. "Really horny."  
  
"And not just because I'm touching you?"  
  
Grateful that Barnaby had bothered to clarify, Kotetsu shook his head.   
  
Satisfied, or evidently still full of questions, Barnaby continued, his gloved fingers beginning to unbutton Kotetsu's waistcoat. In the interest of hiding from the embarrassing nature of the questions he was answering, Kotetsu allowed this so he could keep his hands over his face. Only very briefly did he wonder if his slightly damp hair would do anything untoward to the couch, but he quickly discarded the thought. It was Barnaby's fault anyway for pinning him here. "What if I were to put you in a collar?"  
  
Collars, by definition, were already associated with a whole subset of mannerisms in Kotetsu's mind, and he had trouble figuring what sort of meaning Barnaby meant, so instead of answering directly, he asked, "Why would you?"  
  
The answer was a growl, hot in his ear, and it made his skin feel tight. "To show that you belong to me."   
  
Breathing a little harder, Kotetsu found that he had no problem in the least with the sense of being possessed. "Th-that'd be okay, then."  
  
"You have reservations?"  
  
"I don't like being yanked around by my throat," he admitted. "It's the big downside to ties and stuff. Feels like choking, I hate that."  
  
A hand stroked through his hair and Kotetsu unconsciously turned towards it, a little comforted by that gesture. "What about being treated like an animal or subhuman, or called names like that? Being required to act like an animal?"  
  
Slowly, Kotetsu lowered his hands from his face, peering at Barnaby fearfully. When his answer took more than a few moments, Barnaby sat back, allowing Kotetsu to sit up and turn the idea over in his mind. Eventually, he shook his head. "I don't think I'd be okay with that. It's too much like putting up with bullies for being a NEXT when I was a kid."  
  
"All right." Barnaby reached out to ruffle Kotetsu's hair again, and Kotetsu let him. That, at least, didn't seem demeaning in the same way. Being treated like he was dirt just took him back to that dumpster in the rain again, ultimately, and that night left him feeling too depressed to even give a half-hearted attempt at analyzing his feelings towards it, let alone try to derive pleasure from it somehow. It seemed Barnaby's thoughts were elsewhere, as he asked thoughtfully, "What if I just called you a good boy?"  
  
"I'm at least ten years older than you," Kotetsu grumbled.

Laughing, Barnaby shrugged, seeming totally unperturbed. "All right, all right. I just want some way to reaffirm that you're doing well when you do well. That can be just as embarrassing as being told when you do things wrong, but nicer, too." At Kotetsu's skeptical expression, Barnaby stood from the couch, motioning for Kotetsu to follow him, and led the way into his bedroom. Once the light had been flipped on, he gestured to the bed, where Kotetsu sat, waistcoat still hanging open and tie undone, waiting for Barnaby to explain himself. It was a little less barren in Barnaby's room than it had been the first time Kotetsu had seen it. A month of fairly frequent physical liaisons had left Barnaby somewhat less pristine in his living habits, and much more open about the vast collection of sex toys and bondage gear he owned, including a hook and chains hanging down from the ceiling that Kotetsu still couldn't bring himself to really look at without feeling funny.

  
From his dresser, where he still kept the more delicate equipment, especially anything meant to be inserted into the body, Barnaby procured a chastity belt and an anal plug. Closing the black oak drawer, he turned and paced across the room in his creaking leather shoes, a picture of elegance and suave culture. It seemed to Kotetsu that Barnaby's poise lent the objects themselves a certain flair, making them seem artistic in design where in Kotetsu's hands, they were just tools that he used without finesse or real understanding. Barnaby handed them both to Kotetsu for inspection.

"Before we try this, I'm going to need to establish rules that you, as my slave, would follow." He waited until Kotetsu met his eyes and agreed. The chastity belt was fascinating, though, and Kotetsu found himself examining it with trepidation, pressing against the unrelenting metal with one thumb and wondering how painful it would be to actually wear. Hopefully not at all, he wasn't really a fan of pain. He wasn't even certain he was a fan of orgasm denial, really.

The anal plug, a slender, clearish piece of plastic, made him more curious. He looked up thoughtfully, and asked, "What are the rules? And- what would these be for?"

"We'll have to agree on them," Barnaby clarified with a soft laugh, crouching down to further unbutton Kotetsu's green shirt, unbuckle his belt, undo his pants and unlace his shoes. "This is the set of rules I'm considering. If you dislike any of them or want to change them or add your own, we can. First: You will not reach orgasm or use the bathroom without first receiving my express permission."

A little nervous, Kotetsu re-examined the anal plug. "Um, the bathroom part seems kind of extreme. And I think I can avoid masturbating without wearing this stuff. And- what happens if I accidentally come anyway?"

"We can rescind any restriction that makes you uncomfortable, or add anything back in later if you change your mind; that's fine." Barnaby smiled calmly, a small but unharried smile that fit the whole image of 'competent nobleman' that Kotetsu's mind kept going back to, thanks to the cut of Barnaby's suit. Instead of protesting further, Kotetsu settled in to listen, trusting that Barnaby would let him raise any objections along the way if he really couldn't sit still and wait to the end of the rules to ask his questions. "If you do come without permission, you'll be punished; what constitutes a suitable punishment depends on what you're comfortable with. Forced exercise, chores, maybe detention. I know you don't like physical pain, so being exhausted seems like it would be plenty of penance. Does that suit you?"

Oddly, it struck him as very appropriate. None of those things would necessarily give away the nature of their bedroom play to anyone who might happen to notice him at it while he did his penance. Kotetsu toyed with the anal plug idly. "What- what would I have to do in detention? Like, write stuff?"

"Yes."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Things like," Barnaby leaned closer, and whispered into Kotetsu's ear, "every detail of what you felt while you were masturbating. How much you spilled without permission, and how it felt, and what you were thinking of. Apologies for being a bad slave. Requests to be forgiven that you must convince me to approve."

For a moment, Kotetsu's mouth was so dry, he couldn't think. The anal plug slipped right out of his nerveless fingers, and made a dull 'thunk' on the floor. "Y-you're going to m-make me keep a journal about-- th-that stuff?"  
  
"Yes. Now, if you're satisfied with that, I'll restate the rule. First: you will request permission before any orgasm, and you will be accordingly punished if you fail to keep yourself in check." Kotetsu nodded hastily, and Barnaby smiled, kissing his cheek. "Second: You will train yourself to eventually masturbate four times a day. You will call me and ask, or beg, for permission to orgasm. I may or may not say yes. You will keep a journal about these activities, and keep me updated on how well you're doing."  
  
"Four times a _day?!_ "  
  
"You're supposed to be my sex slave," Barnaby drawled wryly, laughing at Kotetsu's embarrassed, flustered expression. Despite his incredulity, he certainly didn't feel too put off. Just a little intimidated, really. "How can you properly service me if you're not ready at any time to be fucked?"  
  
Breath catching, Kotetsu bit his lip and didn't move to stop him when Barnaby began peeling Kotetsu's clothing off of him, baring him to the slightly chilly air of the bedroom. He stood when Barnaby guided him to stand, and did not complain as Barnaby tugged his underwear off as well, leaving Kotetsu completely naked and Barnaby still completely clothed.   
  
Making a soft sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, Kotetsu gladly took Barnaby's lead and crawled back onto the bed, letting himself be pulled down to rest his head in Barnaby's lap. When Barnaby's fingers began stroking his hair, Kotetsu shut his eyes again, embarrassed but not unhappy. "I take it from your silence that, despite the monumental nature of the task before you," Barnaby's fingers tickled Kotetsu's ear, "you want to please me, so you'll do your best. Is that right?"  
  
"Y-yes," Kotetsu decided, with a slight feeling of relief. "I- I can work my way up to it, right?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Okay." He tried to breathe normally, but between the ache of his erection and his continued ambivalence with regards to his own newly apparent preferences, Kotetsu found it a little too difficult to really quiet himself. "I want to be with you so bad right now, Bunny."  
  
"While I'm still wearing all this?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That could ruin my suit," Barnaby protested, though he didn't sound very concerned at all, and the fingers in Kotetsu's hair sank deep and curled tight, pulling his head back until they could look each other in the eye again. With all that he could muster, Kotetsu tried to look very, very coy, and grinned cheekily when Barnaby let his hair go. "I suppose if we're very precise, nothing will be damaged. Come on. We'll do it against the wall."  
  
The pride he'd felt at getting what he wanted (or at least, what he wanted immediately; he was not yet certain how he felt about their open negotiations about his potential sexual slavery and the connotations that came with it) slipped away quickly as Kotetsu got to his feet, protesting even as he followed Barnaby to the north wall and let himself be pressed face-first into it by the silky soft warmth of Barnaby's body behind him. "But- but it's so hard to stay standing, when--"  
  
"You'll manage," Barnaby promised, nipping Kotetsu's ear, and slipped a suspiciously slick, still-gloved finger down the line of Kotetsu's ass. He scrabbled at the wall, yelping, as Barnaby found his hole and began to press in, circling it slowly until Kotetsu's toes curled and his hands balled into fists. He grit his teeth, and made a pleading noise, shoving his hips back into Barnaby to try to encourage him to _get going, already._  
  
Barnaby chuckled, and with seemingly infinite patience, continued to slowly tease his way in, barely sinking even a knuckle into Kotetsu's body and seeming content to just watch Kotetsu squirm.

The wall was gray, much like the majority of Barnaby's apartment, but the paint was smooth beneath Kotetsu's hands and felt sturdy enough, when he rested his forehead against it. Aside from himself, the room was still and quiet, Barnaby silent behind him, nudging his legs wider with those shiny leather shoes. Kotetsu stood up on the balls of his feet, and bent his knees just a hair, pushing down into that single, teasing finger as Barnaby pushed up. It sank deep, and Kotetsu let his breath out in an appreciative hiss as Barnaby curled and uncurled it, slow and steady and torturously smug.  
  
Just as it seemed he was about to start to work a second finger in, Barnaby withdrew entirely, tracing his finger again around the edge of Kotetsu's anus, teasingly warm and still wet with the lube he'd evidently slathered his gloved fingers with while Kotetsu was distracted at some point during their conversation. Whining, Kotetsu glowered over his shoulder, trying not to sound too petulant. "You did that on purpose!"  
  
"I did nothing of the kind," Barnaby pushed two fingers in, though again, only the first knuckle. He started chuckling when Kotetsu groaned in frustration and lifted his hips to thrust them back, catching them with his free hand. "Stay still. If you really want me to do something else," there was a bizarre familiarity to the words, and Kotetsu's ears burned. "You have to ask for it."  
  
Kotetsu pressed his hands flat on the wall and held as still as he could, quivering while Barnaby continued his extremely slow, methodical exploration of Kotetsu's ass, delving deep with precision, spreading his two fingers and twisting his hand at the wrist. When Kotetsu's hips involtunarily twitched forward, away from the brief, blazing sensation of _that's the spot_ , Barnaby paused, and waited.  
  
Braced as he was against the wall, shaking a little with the effort of standing like this, with his legs so far apart and knees slightly bent, Kotetsu bit down on a slow, erotic whimper. What he wanted he didn't know how to say. And besides, having Barnaby just do whatever he wanted was so--  
  
It was just like the other thing, just like being talked down to and scolded and made to feel like he was totally too old for this. It had the same effect, anyway, knowing that he didn't know what to expect, and Barnaby was going to do whatever he wanted to Kotetsu. Rather than beg for anything in particular, Kotetsu was mortified to hear himself whispering hoarsely,  
  
"Please- Please, just-- whatever you want, please--"  
  
"Please, what?" Barnaby repeated, and withdrew his fingers again, leaving Kotetsu to twitch helplessly, trying to recapture even that shallow sensation of being filled. It didn't help when Kotetsu rocked his hips forward, brushing the tip of his penis against the wall and sighing at the sensation of even that slight friction.  
  
Struggling to stay up on the balls of his feet, Kotetsu answered, "D-do whatever you want just do it _faster_. Please, Bunny."  
  
"When we're playing master and slave, I think you'll have to call me Barnaby," Barnaby muttered wryly, and pressed just his two fingers in again, rocking his hand in a slow thrust until Kotetsu picked up the rhythm and mimicked him. Each rotation came dangerously close to stimulating his prostate, and by the time Barnaby pulled away his fingers again and unzipped his dress pants, Kotetsu was aching for more. "Remember rule one. When you think you're about to come, I want you to ask me permission, first."  
  
Even imagining himself doing such a thing sent a spark of shame through Kotetsu, and he hung his head a little, glad he could hide his face against the wall, leaning into it. "I- I don't know..."  
  
"The point is to get into the habit of asking, not to be punished. You'll feel good when I tell you 'yes', won't you?"

Kotetsu was aghast to discover that he was rather excited by the prospect of earning Barnaby's approval, and hesitated. When his answer didn't immediately come, Barnaby rubbed Kotetsu's back lightly with the dry-gloved hand. It felt nice, and left a tingly half-formed fantasy seeded in Kotetsu's thoughts, as he wondered what it would feel like to be touched only with gloved hands, kept detached from the warm skin-on-skin of direct contact. Trying to linger in the comfort of the gesture and not the vague images he was considering, Kotetsu answered uncertainly, "I guess so."  
  
"You want to be good for me, don't you?" When posed with that somewhat simpler question, Kotetsu nodded, slightly more confident that it was, in fact, something he desired. Whenever Barnaby used his name it gave him that weird warm feeling, after all, as if getting to hear Barnaby say it was its own reward. Maybe that was the kind of thing he ought to be telling Barnaby, if he could without dying of embarrassment, but he didn't have the chance. Barnaby's cock pressed against his hole and he was distracted by doubting he would have the presence of mind to remember to ask permission. He worried he would instead just hit orgasm all hot and uncontrollable and make a mess on Barnaby's wall. He worried it would irritate Barnaby, but didn't dare mention it, lest he seem like he were trying to evade the rule he'd already so willingly agreed to.  
  
Barnaby's hands gripped Kotetsu's hips, and he pulled their bodies together, the head of his erection pressing sharply forward and past the first ring of muscle before Kotetsu had fully realized what was happening. He went taut as a wire, gasping in shock, and then moaned, ardorously shoving his hips back to meet Barnaby's second push. In three quick thrusts, Barnaby was buried inside of him, the soft fabric of his slacks warm against Kotetsu's exposed skin, the backs of his thighs. Barnaby shifted his weight, leaning forward to hook his chin over Kotetsu's shoulder and nibble on Kotetsu's ear while he rolled his hips teasingly. The slide of his cock was absolutely painless, but it felt just as good as being filled always did, and Kotetsu was beside himself with the effort of trying to keep his feet while Barnaby fucked him into the wall. Crooning hungrily for more as Barnaby bit down sharp into his ear, Kotetsu savored the weird sensation of being fully claimed, of having Barnaby so deep that he actually lifted Kotetsu back up to his tiptoes. Each thrust jarred them both against the wall, Barnaby moving his hips in a precise, tight circle, altering his angle of entry until he struck a nerve that garnered an even more powerful reaction.  
  
" _Ahhh!_ " Kotetsu wasn't really sure if that sound was coming from him or from Barnaby, but the teeth on his ear had let up and lips were pressing to his shoulders now, while Barnaby suspended him with his wet, gloved hand cupping Kotetsu's belly, supporting the whole of Kotetsu's weight with just his own strength as he thrust _up_. The wall was close, close enough that if he fell he would only fall to his feet and back into it, and Kotetsu was intensely aware of the other hand, the dry glove that was squeezing his hip hard enough to bruise.   
  
Only when Barnaby thrust up again did Kotetsu realize every thrust was striking the same spot, and he was very nearly to orgasm already just from this, just from being carried. His prostate ached when the tip of Barnaby's erection was grinding into him, that sweet sore ache that felt so good it made his muscles jump and his breath come short. "--Bunny," he whispered, half-swallowing the name as another thrust made his cock twinge almost painfully hard against his belly. "Oh," this was not going to last. _He_ was not going to last. "Oh, wait. Wait, Bunny."

Barnaby thrust up again, somehow pushing even harder, sliding Kotetsu down and digging hard against that same spot, until it felt so good Kotetsu writhed in a confused effort to get away, to try to gather his scattered thoughts and remember what it was like not to be overwhelmed by pleasure. He could hear himself moaning so loudly he half feared Barnaby's neighbors could hear it too, and cursed their position, which made it impossible to reach out and hold Barnaby tight like he so desperately wanted.

That he knew what he wanted at all was something of a shock, but he was able to get over it when another thrust put him dangerously close to the point of no return, and he howled, trying to convey what he was thinking, to remember to do as Barnaby had asked him to do. "Wa- wait, I c- I can't h-hold you, I wa-want to hold you," he stammered uselessly, and Barnaby chuckled, thrusting up again.

"You can't always have what you want, old man." His voice sounded strained, Kotetsu thought, but good-natured, and Barnaby pressed a kiss to the back of Kotetsu's neck that suggested he really was enjoying himself, at least.

"But-" Kotetsu stammered helplessly, covering Barnaby's hands with his own in a subconscious attempt to assist him in the effort. "I- I'm gonna--"

He remembered, in a flash, the stipulation Barnaby had made when they started and tried to articulate it, panting hoarsely as the very thought of debasing himself enough to ask permission made his body twitch, muscles clenching briefly around the heat of Barnaby's cock inside him.

"B- Ba- Barnaby, ple-" a thrust interrupted him, and his eyes rolled, "-ease, m-may I c-come now?"

Barnaby thrust again for good measure and Kotetsu wailed anxiously as loud as he could, trembling with the nearness of orgasm and the shame he felt at how quickly this had all happened. He was vividly conscious of drooling, and it was hard not to pant with his tongue out, like this. Doing so sent a wash of funny feelings through him, intensifying his pleasure almost unbearably.

"Yes, Kotetsu, you've been very good," Barnaby murmured, so soft Kotetsu might almost not have heard it, and thrust home again, speeding his rhythm and fucking Kotetsu even harder.

It felt like he might pass out. He fell forward into the wall, sobbing with pleasure, twitching as his body tried to squeeze tighter, tighter around Barnaby inside him. He could feel the wet sticky warmth of his own semen spilling on his stomach, the wall, he could feel the cool gray against his forehead and the air on his tongue as he panted hard, whimpering "Th-thank you, thank you, thank you--" and dragged his fingers like claws down the wall, shuddering with the last vestiges of such overwhelming carnal pleasure.

Barnaby's grip had shifted when Kotetsu fell forward, but he was still supporting him even now, his hips pounding him hard into Kotetsu's ass. Every thrust sent a reactionary, mind-blanking shiver through Kotetsu, as his muscles clamped down again and again in response to that continued stimulation. When Barnaby came at last, five or ten or however many minutes it was later, Kotetsu was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, so thoroughly fucked out he couldn't stop panting like a dog, and trembled when Barnaby finally set him down, still buried within him and leaning over his sweaty shoulder.

His legs shook as he was slowly lowered to his feet, unable to fully manage his weight. Barnaby pulled back with a humming, pleasant groan and slid free, leaving a warm, smooth trail to slide down the insides of Kotetsu's thighs.

It was too much. 

He began to collapse, and was grateful when, again, Barnaby caught him, helping him kindly to the shower, where he could sit down and recover in the warmth of the falling water. Ordinarily, he might have jokingly protested that he was already showered from earlier; but he needed those minutes, watching Barnaby from across the shower with dazed wonder. It was an effort not to let himself wallow in the trepidation that was seeping back into him, and he found himself lamenting that he couldn't linger in the hazy, pleasant afterglow as much as he'd have liked, thanks to that lingering tension.

Barnaby rinsed conditioner from his hair, and then sat beside Kotetsu with a happy sigh. Seeing Kotetsu's expression, he opened his knees and patted the tile between them. "Come sit here," he said, in that same gentle but firm tone of commanding he'd used to tell Kotetsu not to speak with his mouth full.

Curious, Kotetsu did as told, and when Barnaby hooked an arm about Kotetsu's stomach and leaned him back until they were both sitting comfortably, Kotetsu nestled safe and snug in Barnaby's arms, he started to relax again.

"Do you feel good?" The question surprised him almost as much as the gentle kiss to his cheek, and Kotetsu colored with mild embarrassment at the authoritative tone.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he didn't protest the follow up kisses, taking his time to just relax and feel Barnaby's heartbeat behind him. "Yeah. It- it was really good, Bunny."

"I'm glad. You behaved so well for me," Barnaby purred, and nuzzled Kotetsu's throat. It felt ticklish and sweet and a hot twist of pleasure ran through him at the praise. He shivered. "You even remembered to ask permission."

Tentatively, Kotetsu responded, "I wanted- I wanted you to be pleased with me."

"I am." Came the instant response. It was such a simple, stupid thing, but it made Kotetsu feel ridiculously safe, especially the way Barnaby's arm pulled just a hair tighter around his belly while another kiss was pressed into his left temple. "I'm very pleased. Are you tired?"

Kotetsu wanted to prove that he had the kind of ludicrous stamina that would be necessary to meet the projected demands Barnaby had made earlier in their conversation, but he doubted he could even handle two orgasms in one night at the momenet, let alone trying to accomplish four. Suspecting that honesty would be more valuable than effort in this particular case, he reluctantly admitted his weariness. "Yeah, pretty tired."

Seeming to sense his concern, Barnaby chuckled softly. "Me too." He licked his lips of a bead of water from the shower spray, and sighed again, nestling closer with a happy smile. "Let's work out the rest of your rules later, all right?"

The idea of leaving that detail hanging over his head promised that Kotetsu would get very little sleep until they talked about it again, but if that meant they had to discuss it over breakfast, he supposed that wasn't such a burden. "Okay."

"Mmm. I am adding one, though. In the future you'll have to ask permission to go clean up. Even when you're masturbating for me."

That sent a jolt of unmitigated lust straight to his flaccid, weary dick, and Kotetsu groaned in frustration at the heat gathering in his face. "Y-you-- I- Okay," he sighed, trying not to think about it too hard. It was ridiculously shameful. Thinking about it made him shudder in anticipation.

They sat like that for a long time, then, in simple silence, Kotetsu drifting and catching his breath, Barnaby simply holding him. When the water started to lose its heat, Kotetsu stirred from his reverie, stretching until his spine creaked where he sat and then tried to stand to leave the restroom.

Barnaby's hand, tight about his waist, pulled just that much tighter, squeezing the breath out of him for just a moment and loosening when the tension in his muscles eased up. Breathless, startled to discover he was starting to get aroused again, Kotetsu bit his tongue and sat still, waiting for Barnaby to tire of sitting in the shower. 

When he made no move to leave, Kotetsu tried again, to similar results. The restraint had the unexpected effect of making him half-hard with anticipation, and Kotetsu shivered, not even trying to conceal his misplaced excitement from Barnaby. After all, he could probably see exactly what his actions were doing to Kotetsu, sitting behind him just so.   
  
"Why can't I get up?" he grumbled, trying to sound more put out than he really was and failing. "What do you want?"  
  
"You have to ask me permission for this, too."  
  
Gulping audibly, Kotetsu shut his eyes, averting his gaze from where he felt Barnaby watching him, behind. "M. May I please get up and go get dressed?"  
  
The answer was long in coming, and the wait only made it worse, his skin tingling where the shower spray still struck him, seeming almost unfairly pleasant in their insistent patter. Barnaby shifted, until his lips were poised along the shell of Kotetsu's ear, and breathed into it, "Yes, you may." Shivering uncontrollably, Kotetsu tried to stammer a response and couldn't, waiting to move until Barnaby's warm, strong arm finally loosened about his waist and let him go.   
  
It was an effort just to keep his breath steady. Kotetsu hastily dressed and began toweling out his hair determinedly while he waited for Barnaby to follow out of the shower and join him in the bedroom again.   
  
By the time Barnaby did, Kotetsu was almost, kind of, maybe, partially, a little bit more in control of his emotions. A teensy bit.   
  
He sat, legs shaking with nervousness and excitement, at the edge of Barnaby's bed, wondering privately how Barnaby could do it, how he could stand putting himself in the vulnerable situations they had usually practiced before tonight. Kotetsu had no problem with the openness, the sense of trust that he associated with being willing to take Barnaby into himself as he did. The other stuff, though-- being bound, especially-- he couldn't fathom the kind of courage it must take to indulge in a fetish like that. Much, much more than Kotetsu had ever realized he could need, that was sure.  
  
Barnaby appeared, somehow, from the bathroom and closet area already dressed, no longer in the black suit with his gloves and cravat, but just a black t-shirt and unusually ordinary jeans. He hadn't bothered to put on shoes, and when he saw Kotetsu sitting on the bed, he smiled. "Come on," he coaxed, offering a hand up. "I have a copy of _The Barber of Seville_ on disc, if you're up for it. It's a comedy and a romance, so I think you might like it. Besides, if you don't, I have a collection of cartoons that use classical music for their background tracks-- you'll love those for sure," Barnaby teased.   
  
And just like that, all of the anxiety gathering at the back of Kotetsu's neck vanished, and he laughed, accepting the hand and standing with a feeling of relief. Nothing had really changed, had it? Nothing bad, anyway. Feeling light with happiness at the thought of a comedy opera (Kotetsu had always been under the impression that operas had a prerequisite of being tragic, and thus not too fond of them), he followed Barnaby out to the living room, and settled in with a glass of wine to give _The Barber of Seville_ a try.   
  
It didn't even occur to him until lunch the next day that he'd taken a place without prompting at Barnaby's feet, resting his head against Barnaby's knee and sitting on the floor beside that one, black chair.


	3. Chapter 3

Kotetsu woke slowly. First, he became aware of the fact that he was not in his own bed. He felt as though he could see himself, sprawled haphazardly across Barnaby's bed, but his fingers would not move and his eyes refused to open, as he savored the smell of Barnaby's sheets, their soft silk texture, the warmth of being all wrapped up in them.   
  
A slow touch shivered down his side, feather-light, and lingered at the curve of his hip. Another followed, and then it matched the first motion with an upstroke. The pressure never deepened from that first sensation, like a pearl of water dripping down his skin, as he shifted and sighed, pushing very slightly into it. It did not quite tickle, or itch. Like the sheets it made him feel warm, a tingling pleasant focus spreading throughout his body. When the touch spread to include his chest, tracing the burn scar from the laser pistol Barnaby had once fired on Kotetsu's command, he felt his body stir in answer and moaned, tentatively aware that this was probably not happening in a dream, but in real life. He caught his breath in a hiss as the touch climbed higher, circling the other burn scar-- the one on his shoulder-- and tracing a line along his neck.   
  
He thought he heard Barnaby whispering something, and tried to answer, meaning to ask what Barnaby had said. He could hear his voice, but the words were garbled and he was too sleepy to straighten them out.   
  
The cool touch of leather was something of a shock, enough that he opened his eyes. Still too unfocused to see, he shut them again, brow creasing as he tried to concentrate on the feeling of pressure, there. It was light, thin enough not to really interfere with anything, but just tight enough that he felt deeply aware of it, how sticky it was, how acrid it smelled. That same light touch, which he could now identify as fingers, brushed over his stubbly face, caressing his cheek, and he followed the gesture, humming in pleased agreement.   
  
Barnaby's voice again, this time close in his ear. "Do you like it?"  
  
"Nn?"  
  
Gently, still so light it was starting to drive Kotetsu mad, Barnaby's fingers resumed their careful path, tracing over his skin and circling his nipples, this time, until he felt them begin to tighten, the skin tingling with anticipation alone. His breath was getting a little less even, and he opened his eyes again, this time aware enough to focus on Barnaby's satisfied, almost smug expression. What Kotetsu thought was sublimely unfair was how incredibly sexy Barnaby tended to look just after waking up, with his eyes more sultry than they seemed behind his glasses, his cheeks a little red and sunlight in his hair, haloing him.   
  
"Do you like the collar? It's just a temporary thing, we'll want one that's got lining for the real one." Barnaby's thumb scraped over the tip of Kotetsu's left nipple and he felt an electric, overwhelming need to make that keep happening. He whimpered, and Barnaby smiled toothily, looking not one whit apologetic. Bastard. "You like this, at least."  
  
"Uh-huh," Kotetsu moaned, squeezing his eyes shut again and stretching, bringing his arms up over his head as he burrowed back into the bed. He accidentally ended up dragging Barnaby's fingers over his ribs and yelped, laughing helplessly. "--nn, but that--!"  
  
"I wouldn't have thought you'd be ticklish," Barnaby admitted, doing it again. Kotetsu curled up on himself with a noisy snort, snickering and trying to protect his chest, all the sleepiness that had lingered suddenly dissipating. "I'm only touching you," Barnaby purred, with a positively wicked grin.   
  
Wriggling away and rolling off of the bed heedless of his tell-tale erection, Kotetsu yelped again, undignified but not caring at the least. "No, don't!"  
  
"All right." Barnaby snuggled deeper into the covers, looking so inviting Kotetsu very nearly laid back down again. "But do you like it?"  
  
Lifting his hand to his throat, Kotetsu tested the collar and found himself alarmingly aroused by what it signified. Here was the mark of ownership, the proof that all the difficult things he'd admitted the night before had not only been met with understanding, but accepted as a part of who he was. He couldn't see the color, but it didn't matter. A simple little strip of leather marked him as belonging to Barnaby, and he was absolutely content with it. "Yes."  
  
Barnaby's answering smile was cryptic, but he climbed out of bed and pulled on his glasses, scrutinizing Kotetsu with evident pride. "Good. I think it suits you." Before Kotetsu could argue that or at the very least be indignant, Barnaby crooked a finger and said, in that tone that sent shivers down Kotetsu's spine, "Come here."  
  
He shyly crossed the room, standing close enough for Barnaby to touch him again, turning his head this way and that, circling him, testing him, and finally pulling him into a kiss that left his head spinning, Barnaby's tongue practically down his throat as Kotetsu gave way and clung to Barnaby's shoulders, determined to at the very least hold on. When they broke apart, he found himself torn between admiring Barnaby's body in the morning light, and being embarrassed of his own. Barnaby removed the difficulty of the decision by getting dressed with an alacrity Kotetsu admired, in the same jeans and t-shirt as the night before. Before Kotetsu could move to do the same, Barnaby shook his head, heading for the kitchen.   
  
"I need to draft up your contract before we can really get started. Cook breakfast for us, will you? And not fried rice." Kotetsu grinned sheepishly when Barnaby sent him an exasperated _look._ "Fried rice is not an acceptable breakfast substitute, and neither is beer. You can make an omelette, can't you?"  
  
"Yeah- well, I mean. Kinda."  
  
"Good enough. Get to work."  
  
A little amused, and considerably more motivated than he'd have thought, Kotetsu ambled through the hallway to the kitchen and began rummaging through Barnaby's fridge for ingredients. The kitchen was not precisely as friendly as his own, as Barnaby's fastidious nature tended to keep all necessary cooking utensils well hidden when not being employed for a specific purpose, but like the bedroom it had started to get a bit less intimidating as they spent more and more time together. When they'd first confessed their mutual attraction, Kotetsu had discovered to his horror that he knew nothing about Barnaby's kitchen, not even what he'd managed to learn from previous visits. Only after Barnaby had explained his tendency to arbitrarily re-organize the entire system he used to store things every few months had Kotetsu had any inkling of why the forks were no longer present in the drawer he knew forks should be. He still wasn't sure _why_ Barnaby did it, but he had his own sneaking suspicions that there was a nasty pest story involved, or some neuroses, or that Barnaby secretly and sadistically derived entertainment from confounding his only regular houseguest.   
  
To his relief, the forks were still where he'd last seen them, a detail he couldn't remember from the night before, and consequently, so was the skillet, the whisk, and the spatula. For ingredients, Kotetsu decided to add onions, cheese and bell peppers, not particularly fond of fried tomatoes and not interested in arguing with Barnaby about whether or not sausage belonged in an omelette (which, naturally, it did, but he was willing to accept that some people were grossly underappreciative of such things). Pulling out Barnaby's cutting board, four eggs, his additional materials and a steak knife, Kotetsu set to work, trying not to be too openly aware of his nudity or of the fact that Barnaby was busily working on a legal pad in the next room over, sitting in that solitary chair. The occasional sound of leather creaking as he shifted in his seat was the only indicator of his presence, and Kotetsu resolved not to bother him until he was finished, so as not to distract him from the important business of drafting the contract.   
  
Even a stray thought about it sent his focus careening back to the nature of it all. Kotetsu swallowed thickly, pausing in midst of dicing the bell peppers, and taking a deep breath. The kitchen was looking a little dusty, to be honest. Barnaby had probably been so busy lately, and Kotetsu was already here. He finished dicing the bell peppers-- green and red both, just in case Barnaby had a preference for either-- and sheared the ends off of the onion, peeling away its outer layers before he chopped it in two. Half he immediately tossed into a plastic baggy and returned to the refrigerator. The other half he sliced into fine rings, obsessing all the while about the dust he could see gathering on the cupboards. Barnaby was usually so cleanly that it seemed awful to imagine he hadn't had time for this sort of thing. Not that Kotetsu minded if it meant Barnaby was relaxing more, but perhaps he would be best suited to relaxing if he didn't have to clean at all, and Kotetsu took care of that for him?  
  
He noted the dishes, rinsed but still in need of scrubbing with hot water and soap, and resolved to take care of them. Just as soon as he'd gotten everything prepared, there'd be no harm in washing the dishes along with the knife and the cutting board. Following that, he could dust everything while the omelette cooked. Resolved, he dug through the cupboards in search of Barnaby's cheese grater, grating some cheddar off of a block that smelled pleasantly sharp before returning that to its storage tupperware and placing this, too, back inside the fridge.   
  
Kotetsu didn't notice as the sounds of Barnaby shifting from the other room gave way to the sound of feet padding closer, engrossed in getting the water hot and washing the dishes. Barnaby had dishsoap and a rag easily accessible on the sink, so he made do with those, scrubbing away some salad dressing Barnaby hadn't quite rinsed away the night before and then attacking both plates with liberal amounts of soap, vigor, and hot water. The cheese grater, the knife-- he wondered if he ought to have waited so he could clean the skillet and the whisk, as well, but decided he'd still need to do it all again after they ate. Satisfied, he put the cooking utensils away, moved the now-clean plates to the counter beside the stove, and turned on the stove.   
  
Confident that he had everything he needed, he searched through the spice cabinet until he had procured some canola oil, and very nearly dropped the bottle with an undignified shout when Barnaby's hand closed firmly on his buttocks, squeezing so tightly that Kotetsu started shuddering.   
  
"Oh- oh, ah, you--"  
  
"I've finished your contract." Barnaby's voice slid over him in tandem with warm hands, sliding up Kotetsu's sides to cup his chest, thumbs teasing his nipples. He bit his lip, leaning back into that touch and gripping the canola oil resolutely. It might be plastic, but he still didn't want to drop it. "I can take care of breakfast from here."  
  
Worried that he'd somehow failed to do his job, Kotetsu began to protest, stammering, "B-but I was about to--"  
  
"I'm pleased you took initiative with the dishes," and oh, well, maybe Barnaby wasn't upset after all, if he was pinching Kotetsu's nipples and biting his shoulder, "but I have something for you to take care of while I cook that's a little more important."  
  
"Oh." Sometimes, Kotetsu hated how difficult it was to speak coherently when Barnaby was touching him. He shivered as Barnaby's tongue slid over his shoulder and up along his neck to the bottom of the collar. "Ooh, 'kay, okay, if you s-say so."  
  
He could feel the smile pressed between his shoulderblades, and Barnaby's hands slipping back down his sides. Part of him worried Barnaby might send him to do something dreary like re-organize the books on Barnaby's solitary bookshelf, but for the most part he suspected Barnaby was in the mood for something a bit more sexual, and that absolutely appealed. He let Barnaby take the bottle of canola oil, and guide him down to his knees on kitchen floor, even as Barnaby began preparing the omelette Kotetsu had been putting together. Once he'd poured the oil into the pan, Barnaby motioned for Kotetsu to come kneel beside him. Kotetsu did, trying to keep his breathing even.   
  
"What- what should I do?"  
  
"I want you to prepare yourself for me," Barnaby said conversationally, slightly distracted as he cracked the eggs into a small bowl and began stirring them with the whisk. "Do you think you can do that?"  
  
Catching his breath, Kotetsu nodded shakily and reached back, tracing the line of his own body down to his anus. "Can- can I have some of the oil?"  
  
"Of course. Thank you for asking. Please use as much as you need."  
  
The whole thing was so strangely ordinary, he half wondered if he was still asleep. But he was, in fact, naked and collared on Barnaby's floor, already hard just thinking about how unfazed Barnaby was acting about the whole thing. He hissed, snagging the bottle of oil with one hand and pouring a small amount into his palm. Capping it, he set it back on the counter and began working some of the oil into his hands, trailing the excess down his ass and pushing it inside of himself with a hiss. He could feel Barnaby watching from the corner of his eye and bent low, pressing his face into the floor and his fingers into himself, spreading his hole stubbornly and struggling not to let his embarrassment keep him silent.   
  
Masturbating, even if he had fingered himself off and on for many years between his fooling around with Antonio back in high school and now, was something he still had trouble doing when he knew Barnaby could see. He'd never masturbated while with Tomoe, too satisfied to need that kind of stimulation and too embarrassed to seem like he needed to spend so much attention on himself when he could be doing sexy things to her, instead. It was difficult enough to think about masturbating in bed with Barnaby right there, sleeping, but he'd done it a few times, and even reluctantly admitted to it, one morning. Given Barnaby's reaction, it seemed likely that his partner held none of the compunctions Kotetsu did about the act, and when he slipped another finger inside of himself, Barnaby was the one who made an answering noise of approval.   
  
Kotetsu held back a shaky sigh of pleasure, spreading his cheeks so Barnaby could see more clearly, angling himself to give a clear view of what he was doing.   
  
The smell of the omelette was unexpectedly tantalizing, some sharp spice punctuating the egg-smell, but Kotetsu tried to ignore it, focusing on the task set before him. He wriggled his fingers, trying to wedge them in deep enough to find his prostate and start stroking it. When he found it, he felt his toes curl and heard himself groaning like he was going to ejaculate all over the floor. More importantly, he heard Barnaby's answering, erotic murmur of ' _fuck yourself, that's it_ ' and suddenly, he could not jam his fingers in hard enough, rocking his hips into his own touch and moaning increasingly unabashedly as his cock throbbed against his belly, painfully hard. He could not get over the feeling of Barnaby watching him, imagining that hawklike, inquisitive, unyielding expression and loving it.   
  
" _Nngh,_ " he moaned, starting to regret he didn't have three hands so he could touch himself, too. "Can I-- mn-- can I come? Please?"  
  
"Don't you want me to fuck you?" Barnaby purred, and Kotetsu came with a wail of apology, too late to stop himself.

" _Ohfuck_! Fuck-- _fuck_ , I'm so- I'm so sorry." He shuddered, skin crawling with shame as he tried to cover his erection too late to stop the semen from spilling all over the floor. "I'm sorry!"  
  
Barnaby laughed, not sounding too displeased, and there was a click of the skillet being moved to a burner not yet lit before Barnaby crouched down beside him, running soft hands over Kotetsu's sides, pulling him back for a gentle embrace. "It's okay."  
  
"I- but I- you said I had to get permission, and-- I'm so sorry," he muttered glumly, all of his previous excitement turning to a nervous feeling of failure, "I wanted to make you happy, I didn't mean to."  
  
Ruffling Kotetsu's hair, Barnaby said again, firmly, "It's okay. You're still in training, and accidents happen." Like he was some kind of puppy getting housebroken. Kotetsu ducked his head, flushed with shame. "You remembered to ask. You did well, and I'm happy you wanted to be with me so much."   
  
Slowly, the truth of what Barnaby was saying sank past Kotetsu's reservations and embarrassment, and he let himself be pulled up into a tighter embrace, accepting Barnaby's kiss, reassured. "I'm still sorry," Kotetsu muttered, a little less overwhelmed. His stomach growled petulantly. "I mean, I didn't mean to give you blueballs, or-- fuck. I'm sorry. Didn't know I'd--" One of Barnaby's hands slipped low, sliding up into Kotetsu's hole. He gasped, clenching tight around it without meaning to. "-- _nnh_!"  
  
"You're still ready for me. You did as you were told. It's all right; let's have breakfast, and then go over your contract."   
  
"But I made a mess! And I'll get oil where ever I sit!"   
  
Barnaby shook his head, and smiled, ruffling Kotetsu's hair affectionately. "We'll clean up after breakfast, then. Come on, before it gets too cold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this breaks up into such a short chapter. Anyway! I'm. going to try to finish this. Eventually. (This is actually being posted to Ao3 on 2/28/2021, but shh.) Rediscovered this and want to try to wrap it up. There's a couple other old projects on the anonmeme I never finished, but would like to. So, if I do, you'll see them show up here, too. I figured I'd better take it one thing at a time, and I have a bunch of jjba projects I want to finish too, so it might still be a bit. But. It's here now! So I hope you enjoy and that whatever comes of the future will be good to us.


End file.
